My Teacher: By Dr. Evan Keith
I felt something come from under the bathroom sink onto my foot.
Like the dance of water it felt.
When I looked down, I saw you. I felt revulsion and disgust.
Is it a crime for one’s form to look so ugly to me?
(Surely, you turned some other giant beetle on for some seconds of rapture.)
There was me and there was you.
What happened to there being only the one Self?
With my foot I threw you in the air. I hurled you far away.
Oh, now I recognize you. You are I. I am you.
You are Bhagavan. You are this very Self.
Unbeknownst to you, you are my teacher.
I bow to you, as you scamper away.
Perhaps you will return to teach me again, in case I shall forget.